Alabama -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction; Domestic fiction; War stories
Mrs. Murray had informed Edna that the gentleman whom she had engaged
to instruct her resided in the neighboring town of--, and one Monday
morning in August she carried her to see him, telling her, as they
drove along, that he was the minister of the largest church in the
county, was an old friend of her family, and that she considered
herself exceedingly fortunate in having prevailed upon him to consent
to undertake her education. The parsonage stood on the skirts of the
village, in a square immediately opposite the church, and was separated
from it by a wide handsome street, lined on either side with elm trees.
The old-fashioned house was of brick, with a wooden portico jutting out
over the front door, and around the slender pillars twined honeysuckle
and clematis tendrils, purple with clustering bells; while the brick
walls were draped with luxuriant ivy, that hung in festoons from the
eaves, and clambered up the chimneys and in at the windows. The
daily-swept walk leading to the gate was bordered with white and purple
lilies--"flags," as the villagers dubbed them--and over the little gate
sprang an arch of lattice-work loaded with Belgian and English
honeysuckle, whose fragrant wreaths drooped till they touched the heads
of all who entered. When Mrs. Murray and Edna ascended the steps and
knocked at the open door, bearing the name "Allan Hammond," no living
thing was visible, save a thrush that looked out shyly from the
clematis vines; and after waiting a moment, Mrs. Murray entered
unannounced. They looked into the parlor, with its cool matting and
white curtains and polished old-fashioned mahogany furniture, but the
room was unoccupied; then passing on to the library or study, where
tiers of books rose to the ceiling, they saw, through the open window,
the form of the pastor, who was stooping to gather the violets blooming
in the little shaded garden at the rear of the house. A large white cat
sunned herself on the strawberry bed, and a mocking-bird sang in the
myrtle-tree that overshadowed the study-window. Mrs. Murray called to
the minister, and taking off his straw hat he bowed, and came to meet
them.
"Mr. Hammond, I hope I do not interrupt you?"
"No, Ellen, you never interrupt me. I was merely gathering some violets
to strew in a child's coffin. Susan Archer, poor thing! lost her little
Winnie last night, and I knew she would like some flowers to sprinkle
over her baby."
He shook hands with Mrs. Murray, and turning to her companion offered
his hand saying kindly:
"This is my pupil, Edna, I presume? I expected you several days ago,
and am very glad to see you at last. Come into the house and let us
become acquainted at once."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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